Under Glass
by JackiLeigh formerly Jackilee
Summary: Part 1 of "The 'Under' Series. Sam and Dean need Neal's help on a museum heist.
1. Chapter 1

Under Glass

**AN: I'm thinking a Supernatural/White Collar crossover would be fun. Sam and Dean met Neal on one of their many…adventures. Sam and Dean catch Neal, in the act, of course. Neal gets a tiny glimpse into the world of the hunter. They go their separate ways, but they still cross one another's paths from time to time. This is one of those times….**

**I am a huge Stephen King fan and I am writing this with the story about the monkey's paw in mind. I cannot remember the name of the story. And I probably need to reread it, it's been many, many years. **

"Sam! Dean!" Neal said, answering the knock at the door.

"Man!" Dean said as he and Sam came in and looked around.

"Awesome place you have here, Neal." Sam said.

"Killer view." Dean said heading out to Neal's patio.

"Yeah, well…." Neal said smiling.

"You must be the best damned CI in the history of CIs for the FBI to afford you this place."

"I am pretty good, actually. But the place is only $700 a month."

Both Sam and Dean looked at him in surprise.

"You serious?" Dean asked.

Neal nodded.

"You conned that sweet lady." Sam shook his head. "That's bad, Neal."

Neal shook his head. He smiled. "She knows I'm a con. She knows I wear an anklet. She how much she should charge for this place, and she knows I'm working off my time."

"Speaking of time…" Dean said as he and Sam looked at each other. "…we don't want to add to yours. But…."

Neal waited for them to continue.

"What we need you to help us with is a little…south of legal." Sam confessed.

Neal started to speak.

"We don't need you to steal anything. We'll take care of that." Dean explained. "We just need you to…duplicate it."

Neal nodded. "Not a problem, you've come to the right guy." He looked at them. "Where is it? What is it?" Neal asked, noticing for the first time the boys had arrived empty handed.

"That's the…problem." Dean said as he sat down at Neal's table, Sam and Neal followed suit. "It's a, for lack of a better term, cursed item."

Neal shook his head. "There's no such thing. Pharaohs knew their people were highly superstitions. They just told their people that stuff, put curses on the buried items to keep people from stealing their treasures, robbing their graves."

"That may be." Sam admitted. "But we've followed the story in the paper."

"Everybody who touches this thing…people are dying. It's…evil." Dean stated.

Sam added. "The reports are that people have died, their marriages fail. Their kids run away. They lose their jobs. One article said that this thing is preying on these people's worse fears." Sam paused. "It was said as a joke. But we think that is exactly what it's doing."

"Anyway, we don't actually have the item, for obvious reasons. And we don't have pictures." Dean replied.

"Guys, I'm good, but I'm not that good. I need a picture. I have to see it myself, something." Neal stated.

"There are not picture of it that we've seen. The papers never included a picture. The last person who had it decided to donate it to a museum." Dean explained. "Our FBI alter egos talked to him. We found out he had already donated it. We followed it from Kansas to here, New York."

"I'm lost here. You still haven't told me what it is you want me to duplicate." Neal eyed them suspiciously. "What else aren't you telling me?"

"It's…" Sam stammered a little bit. The very idea unnerved him. "…it's believed to be a human hand. The right hand of King Ramses II."

Neal shook his head and stood up. The very idea repulsed him a little. But he was still impressed. "Wow! I am not a whiz at the human anatomy. There is a great deal of precision and know how needed to get the aging correct. You can't just make it out of plaster of Paris you know."

"Actually…you can." Dean said. "We just need the outside to pass visual inspection." He continued. "The original is being authenticated right now by museum officials. That is why there are no pictures. They won't allow any until the item is proved to be authentic. Sam and I will wait until the item is ready to display and steal it. We have jobs as museum security. Then we will just replace your duplicate with the original."

Sam picked up the tale. "We don't care if the fake is discovered. All we want to do is destroy the original. The donator doesn't care what happens to it. He said he would have destroyed it himself if he wasn't afraid of more bad juju coming after him."

Neal shook his head. "You're wrong. There are people out there who would pay millions. It's just like the other Egyptian artifacts." Neal explained. "You and I might find it repulsive. But there are people out there who would display this thing on their mantle like it was a basketball trophy."

"That is just…sick." Sam replied.

"What do you say, Neal?" Dean asked.

"Why destroy it?" Neal asked. "It's going to be behind glass, nobody can touch it. How can it harm anybody that way?"

"It…moves." Sam replied.

Neal just stared at him. "What do you mean it moves! Like…on its own?"

Both Sam and Dean nodded. Neal looked at the he both of them. He had not known them very long. But he knew they were telling him the truth.

"The man said when he got up in the morning; it was never where he left it." Dean said, almost matter-of-factly.

"The fact you said that without it freaking you out tells me you guys have been doing this for way…way too long." Neal observed.

Neither Sam nor Dean said anything.

"Are you sure the man didn't have a cat?" Neal asked.

The brothers shook their heads.

"…a dog?"

They shook their heads, no.

"…a very large suicidal rat?" Neal asked.

No, again.

"So it's gonna…what…come out of its display case at night and roam the museum?" Neal asked, scared of the answer.

"Well, not that exactly." Sam paused. "From all the research I have done…it…it has something…attached to it."

"A ghost?" Neal asked, only mildly perturbed. He didn't really believe in ghosts.

Sam shook his head.

"A demon?" Neal asked. This concerned him. He was not a religious man, but he knew demons and angels existed.

"Not exactly." Dean said, hesitantly. He knew Neal would not at all like what he was about to hear.

"Than what, exactly?" Neal asked. He could think of nothing else it could be.

"Lucifer." Sam replied.

Neal looked from Sam to Dean for a moment in open-mouthed shock.

"Satan! The big guy…with the horns and the pitchfork?" Neal managed to say.

"The horns only come out when he's pissed." Dean replied.

"And he doesn't use the pitchfork…that often." Sam added.

"Very reassuring." Neal said. He went to his door and opened it. "You're on your own. I don't know a lot about Hell, Satan and all that stuff. But I really, really don't want to end up on Satan's Shit List."

"All mankind is on Satan's Shit List." Dean replied.

"Well, in that case, wherever I am not the list, I don't want to be moving up." Neal replied, his door still open.

"Neal, you know we wouldn't come to you unless we needed your help. We know how you feel." Sam stated, pleading with Neal. "Trust me, we do. But we need you on this. You're the best. We'll bring you pictures. You never had to touch the hand. You never have to be near it. We just need to fool these people long enough to get the hand out do the ritual and destroy it. That's all."

Neal didn't look convinced.

"Look," Dean said. "…we'll leave you these." Dean placed an amulet and a small bottle of water in Neal's hand. "It's a blessed medal and holy water."

Dean and Sam then left. Neal waited until they were gone before he took the Bible off the shelf in his apartment and began to read.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks guys, thanks for the reviews and alerts.**

Neal slipped the amulet over his head the moment the boys had left. He wore it under his suits. He rarely took it off, except to shower. He had not heard from Sam and Dean in a few days. And he hoped they had found another way to get the artifact, another way that didn't involve him. There came a knock on Neal's door. He sighed, already knowing who it was. He opened the door.

"We have pictures." Dean said, as a hello. "We almost got caught, but we got pictures."

Sam handed over an envelope. "These are the only records that exist of any illegal activity."

Neal nodded as he took the envelope. He would burn the pictures after he was done.

Neal opened the envelope and took out the pictures. He had quickly gotten over his initial repulsion. He was beginning to look at this as a challenge. He had gotten an anatomy book and had been studying the structure of the human hand. And now, seeing the pictures, he knew exactly how he would do it.

"When do you need it?" Neal said, still looking at the photographs.

"The exhibit will end in three days. We'd like to switch it out when things are being packed up. It would be easier then." Dean replied.

Neal nodded. The fake would not be found until they got to the next town. They may not find it for the next couple exhibit tours. Which would even been better, that would put more of a cushion between all of them and the switch.

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Neal worked diligently on his new project. He didn't even tell Mozzie what he was up to. Mozzie lived in a very different world from Sam and Dean, and while Neal didn't mind visiting Mozzie's world, at times. Sam and Dean's world scared the hell out of him.

The mere thought of Lucifer, himself, being attached to an item terrified Neal. He shuddered involuntarily. Neal had begun his work on the sculpture almost as soon as Sam and Dean had left. He had never done such intricate work before. It was hard to replicate a human hand, in detail, when it was in normal condition. The process of adding age, weathering, and taking into account the preservation techniques used. It all brought a much, much greater level of difficulty to the project.

Neal began to have problems almost immediately. He kept the hand sculpture covered in the china cabinet when he was a work. It was never in the sun for long periods of time. But every time he took it out from the cabinet, it felt warm. It was sometimes hot, even. Neal thought it was just his imagination and blew it off. He was really letting his nerves get to him on this one. He had just finished his sculpting one night, and was ready to paint when he thought he felt it move. He jumped up from his dining room table, dropping his paint brush. Neal stared, wide eyed, at the hand again, his fear evident on his face. He backed away from the hand, never taking his eyes off it. That was when he saw the finger move. He knew it had moved because it had creased part of the semi-hardened clay. Neal then looked at the wine glass on his table. The bottle was empty. So was his glass. Had he drank an entire bottle of wine? He could not remember if he had opened this bottle or if he just picked up a bottle and started drinking out of it. Neal was not at all sure, but for his sanity he was going to say he had opened the bottle and had drank the entire thing. He got a kitchen towel out of his drawer. He tossed it from where he was standing. It landed on the hand just enough to cover the majority of it up. He kept his distance from his kitchen table as he tossed the wine bottle and rinsed out his wine glass. He then went to bed.

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Peter notices a change in Neal. He had never known the man to wear jewelry of any kind. But he thought he saw, one day, the chain of a necklace under one of his buttoned-down shirts. Just a quick glimpse of metal on one of the rare days Neal elected not to wear a suit and tie, and opted for more casual apparel. Peter really couldn't see the connection. But he wondered if the addition of the necklace had anything to do with Neal's change in mood.

"...then we got him." Peter finished.

Neal nodded, absently, staring out the window on his side of the car.

Peter noticed Neal's hand had been at his chest. Neal had pulled out what looked like a medal from under his shirt and was rubbing it between his fingers.

"Something bothering you?" Peter asked.

Neal continued to rub the metal and stare out the window.

"Is something bothering you?" Peter asked a little more forcefully.

Again, nothing.

"Neal!"

Neal jerked his head around. He had had no idea Peter was talking to him. "No movement…yet."

"What's with the medal of protection?" Peter asked, getting right to the point.

Neal just looked at him.

"…lapsed Catholic." Peter explained. "What's with the medal?"

Neal looked down, just realizing what he was doing. He put the necklace back under his shirt.

Neal looked at him. "I'm not a particularly religious man. But, sometimes…things change…things happen and you…."

Peter just looked at Neal, encouraging him to talk.

Neal shook his head. "I can't explain it. And you wouldn't believe me if I could."

Peter looked at Neal, unsure what to think. He had never really seen Neal rattled. When he was following Neal, before he caught him the first time, Neal had been unflappable. Now, this was not something he liked seeing in his friend and his partner.

Neal sighed, and turned again to the window. The hand had not been on the table when he had got up this morning. And he was dreading going home. He had not used the holy water. But he would do an Internet search at work. He would know what he had to do to keep himself and June safe. He just needed to find the hand first.

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"What is it?" Peter asked when she entered his office.

Diana handed him a file folder. "He did an Internet search on holy water. I printed off the site he visited. He made a call at 9:43 a.m. to a Dean Winchester. Winchester is on the FBI Most Wanted, 4 known murders to date. He travels with his brother Sam, also a wanted man. What info I have on them is in there, too." Diana paused. "Boss, if…does Neal know what he is getting into with these two?"

Peter shook his head. "He was…rattled his morning. But it…it didn't seem to…it has some religious connection. Nothing like what would be involved with these guys, nothing violent."

"But he did call Dean Winchester." Diana pointed out.

"Yes, and I will be talking with him about that." Peter assured her.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AN: This is a short one, I know. But I think I got the story out and I think I told it pretty well. I do plan on writing another SPN/WC crossover. It was pretty fun.**

Sam and Dean had come over as quickly as possible. They could tell that Neal was rattled over the phone. They exchanged pleasantries with June downstairs before heading up and getting down to business.

Neal arrived home early that day. The day had been a slow one and Peter could tell Neal was not into working, and he had sent Neal home. Neal, on any other day, would have been extremely grateful. But today he didn't want to go. He just hoped Sam and Dean were there and had found the thing before he got there. Neal hoped the hand had not 'wandered' throughout the house and had found its way into June's part of the house.

Neal opened the door to his apartment to find something lying on his kitchen table covered or wrapped in a white cloth. He skirted the table and headed outside when he saw that Sam and Dean were there, taking in the sites.

"I thought Satan was attached to the real thing." Neal stated.

"Not…exactly..." Sam replied. "…it turns out it's not Satan. It is a demon though. And this demon doesn't want the hand destroyed."

"Why?" Neal asked.

"He'll go back to Hell." Dean replied. "Turns out Hell isn't pleasant for demons either."

Neal nodded, not at all certain he understood anything he had just been told.

"So, you're taking it with you?" Neal asked, hoping.

"After you finish it." Sam stated.

"What!" Neal couldn't believe his ears. He was NOT touching that thing again

Dean read his expression. "We will be here, right here, with you. Actually, if you could go ahead and do it, right now. You'd be rid of it, and us."

"You guys are welcome here, anytime, you know that. But you're friend here…" Neal indicated the hand. "…it's worn out its welcome."

Sam and Dean nodded. "Thanks, Neal. This thing won't bother you anymore." Sam replied. "We sprinkled the holy water, and we used salt. We also did it downstairs, as discreetly as possible, of course. June will be safe. We just need to get this thing out of here and into the museum exhibit." Sam paused. "After we perform the ritual, everything will be alright."

Neal realized that what Dean was saying was right. He was now reassured of his and June's safety. He got his brushes and paint together. They all sat down at the table as Neal uncovered the hand and began to work. About an hour later Neal was finished, and the resemblance to the original was remarkable.

Sam and Dean left Neal's apartment with the 'fake' hand in a pillow case.

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"Dean and Sam Winchester have been spotted at an art exhibit." Diana said popping into Peter's office in a moment Neal was not in the room. "They were acting as security…uniforms and everything."

"The Winchesters and art…there MUST be a connection." Peter replied. "Where are they now?" Peter asked grabbing his coat.

Diana shook his head. "Dean saw the feds, alerted his brother. They got away in the crowd."

Peter sighed. "Just what does Neal have to do with all this?" He shook his head.

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Neal looked at his phone. He got up from his desk and went out into the foyer at the elevators to answer it.

"What's going on guys?" Neal asked.

"The feds spotted us, Neal." Dean stated. "We got away, but there is no way we can make the switch now." Dean paused. "The exhibit will be out of the city by midnight."

"Follow it to the next." Neal suggested.

"We thought of that." Dean replied. "But we've already checked. They won't need any more guards there."

"Then find another way." Neal insisted. He was very afraid he understood what he was about to be asked to do.

"Neal…." Dean pleaded.

"I know what you want, Dean." Neal stated. "I really do. But I'm risking just as much as you are."

"Look Neal, you're good at that stuff. Just take it, replace it with the fake, and bring the original to us. You won't get caught. No one will know, and you'll be within your radius the whole time." Dean paused. "No red flags, just a little…late night excursion."

"Seriously, guys? Seriously?" Neal replied, trying to keep his voice down. "It moved on me! The damned thing moved. And THAT was the fake. The original…" Neal shook his head. "…you expect me…!"

"Neal…." Dean started.

"Look, you promised me…swore to me, I wouldn't have to touch that thing!" Neal replied.

"You know what this thing can do." Dean replied. "You've seen it. Do you really think it's safe for anybody? Those rituals don't last forever, and the actual artifact has real power. The demon was just 'having a little fun' that time. He was just giving you a demonstration. But if we destroy the original and do the ritual, it's done, Neal. It's done, and it's gone forever."

Neal sighed. "What's the plan?"

Neal listened intently as Dean laid out the whole thing for him. Neal would wear Dean's security uniform. And they would give Neal back the fake, so that he would make the switch. Neal would sneak into the area were the art was being crated and 'join' the crew. He would then make the switch and make a hasty exit. He would then meet Sam and Dean in a back alley near the exhibit hall.

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"What's going on?" Peter asked.

Diana had been standing at the rail of the upper landing, watching Neal intently. "He's been on the phone with somebody for 15 minutes. He's agitated. I heard his voice raise, even from in here. But I couldn't make out what he was saying."

"He's up to something, Diana." Peter replied.

"He wouldn't be Neal if he wasn't up to something." Diana retorted.

"Just find out what it is." Peter said before he turned and walked into his office.

Peter's 'finding out' included assigning Jones and another White Collar agent to the van. There was movement at about 9:30 p.m. the first night. One of June's house staff walked her dog. Then, at 10 p.m. Neal sneaked out the back. He made the switch and was back to June's by 11:30 p.m. It seemed what Sam and Dean had done at Neal's apartment affected the original artifact too. There was nothing weird going on at the exhibit. Neal had no trouble pulling off the switch. He joined the crew, with no trouble and 'helped' with the packing. He then made his special delivery in the alley Sam and Dean had specified. Meanwhile, all Jones and his fellow fed got to see was the strange nocturnal habits of the upper crust.

The surveillance of Neal's apartment continued for a week. Peter had not been sure of the day of Neal's caper, or even what exactly the caper was. But Peter knew Neal was up to something. Peter had had Diana run the number that had called Neal, but the number led nowhere. They had the information of a sighting of the Winchesters at an art exhibit, posing as security guards. The feds had, of course, not captured them. So they were still on the most wanted list. And Peter could not help but think that Neal knew all about what was going on.

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"Where's the medal?" Peter asked Neal as they sat in Peter's car.

"I'm not wearing it anymore." Neal replied. He had taken it off that night. After he had stolen the hand and turned it over to Sam and Dean.

"I see that. Why?" Peter inquired.

"I don't need it." Neal stated.

"Again, why?" Peter pressed for information.

"I thought we were supposed to be doing this surveillance thing." Neal replied, indicating the guy across the street.

"I'm an excellent multi-tasker." Peter replied. "Stop changing the subject."

"I had some 'things' going on." Neal admitted.

Peter looked at him. "What sort of things…about what you said a few days ago?"

"Aren't we missing a bare-bulb here?" Neal asked.

"This is not an interrogation." Peter replied.

"It sure feels like it." Neal said.

"How do you know Dean Winchester?" Peter decided to just be blunt.

Neal just stared at Peter for a moment. He had not expected the directness.

"How do you know the Winchesters, Neal?"

Neal fumbled for his words for just a second. "…friends, Peter. They're friends."

"They're killers." Peter stated.

"No, they're hunters. Sometimes the people just get in the way." Neal replied.

Peter shook head. He really didn't understand what Neal had said or what he meant. He turned his attention back to their current surveillance, considering Neal's statement.

A Brief Note:

It seems that there was a mention on page 12 of the New York Times of an art theft. Apparently in a certain exhibit, that had been in New York City 4 weeks and 6 cities ago, an excellent reproduction of a mummified hand has been discovered. The director of the exhibit has no idea where or when the theft could have occurred….

THE END


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